


My Heart is a Leather Jacket

by icandrawamoth



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Bloodline - Claudia Gray
Genre: Clothing, Friendship, Gen, I'm Bad At Titles, Leather Jackets, Short, Short & Sweet, There's A Tag For That
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 14:44:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13366914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: “Official Resistance flight jackets,” Greer muses, looking back up at Joph. “We're a real paramilitary group now.”





	My Heart is a Leather Jacket

“Hey, Joph, they're here, let's go!”

The words are said as Greer pokes her head into the pilots' rec area then immediately disappears. His fellows give Joph questioning looks, but he ignores them in favor the broad grin spreading across his face as he follows her. Greer is just disappearing around a corner at the end of the corridor, and he meets her there, in the hanger bay. She's standing in front of a large crate, already dialing the sequence that will lift the lid.

“Didn't take as long as I thought it would,” Joph comments as he watches.

Greer only grins excitedly, reaching in as soon as the lid pops. She paws through it for a moment before tossing Joph a plastic-wrapped package and taking one for herself.

“How'd you know my size?” he asks with a raised eyebrow as he proceeds to rip his open.

“Looked up your order before I came,” she answers breezily. “What do you think?”

A grin spreads across Joph's face as he drops the packaging and holds up its contents: a heavy leather jacket, brown with red accents. He shrugs into it, pulling it closed and doing up the fastenings, looking prouder than he ever has as he models it for her. “I _love_ it.”

Greer is grinning back at him as she puts on her own jacket, gazing down at it. “Official Resistance flight jackets,” she muses, looking back up at him. “We're a real paramilitary group now.”

“A real, fashionable paramilitary group,” Joph agrees, doing his best not to let his smile waver as he still feels that stirring of apprehension, of fear, in his guts when he says the word aloud.

Greer squeezes his arm. “Come on, let's show the others.”


End file.
